


A Perfect Spring

by Anciental



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Sara is never not chill, Wirt is chill for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5180939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anciental/pseuds/Anciental
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wirt and Sara spend an afternoon relaxing on the back porch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Spring

They sat beside each other on Wirt's back porch. It was a sunny afternoon in late spring, still cool enough for Wirt's sweater and Sara's iconic jacket. A light breeze rustled through the tree in the yard. The world smelled of damp earth and budding flowers. Occasionally a cloud would drift across the sky. Wirt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

He still marveled at how relaxing, how easy it was to just sit beside Sara. It almost made him want to break out into verse, but he was too content to want to break the silence. Wirt never thought he'd be one to choose to let his lips lie still, resting in a smile, while he had one hundred poetry prompts floating up and out of his eyes and ears. 

But here he was. With Sara. And it was perfect. 

Sara stretched and laid back onto the wood flooring. Wirt followed her with his eyes. Sara grinned when she saw, and asked “Whatcha thinking about?” Wirt shrugged. 

“Just how amazing you are at not letting things get to you. You're so zen that it rubs off on me.” And it's a credit to what Sara does for Wirt that he didn't blush when he admits this. 

Sara, however, snorted and smacked Wirt's side. “You're a dork.” 

Wirt's closed-lipped smile only grew wider. He looked out off the porch and let out a pleased hum. 

“I can practically hear the poem already, Wirt. Go on,” Sara urged. So Wirt closed his eyes and let the words unfurl. 

_“We buy ashes for bread,_  
We buy diluted wine;  
Give me of the true,   
Whose ample leaves and tendrils curled  
Among the silver hills of heaven,  
Draw everlasting dew;   
Wine of wine,  
Blood of the world,  
Form of forms and mould of statures,   
That I; intoxicated,  
And by the draught assimilated,  
May float at pleasure through all natures,   
The bird-language rightly spell,  
And that which roses say so well.”  


Wirt opened his eyes as the stanza came to an end. Sara had closed her own and placed her hands behind her head. She hummed when she realized Wirt was done. 

“That was nice.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Did you write it?” 

“No, it's just a verse from Bacchus, by Emerson. I don't know why I chose it.” 

“Eh, doesn't matter. It sounded nice, and it must have felt right.” 

Wirt laughed. “I suppose I do feel intoxicated.” 

Sara cracked open an eye. “Do you now? Maybe I need to play catch up,” she joked. “Got anything in the fridge?” 

“Just iced tea,” Wirt answered, unfazed. “But I don't think I want to move.” 

“Me either,” Sara admitted. She watched Wirt as he watched the leaves swaying in the wind. Sara thought Wirt was a lot more “zen” than she was, when he let himself let go like this. 

“Hey,” Sara called softly, asking for Wirt's attention. When he turned around, she patted the porch beside her. She didn't say anything, but Wirt smiled and laid back beside her, hands resting on his chest. 

“You know,” Sara said. “It's not about 'not letting' anything get to me. Stuff just doesn't phase me. Sometimes it's weird. I think you're way cooler for being so affected by things.” 

Wirt wasn't sure he understood why would anyone think his jumpiness was cool. But Sara said it like she wasn't trying to convince him that he was “just fine the way you are”, like others did. She said it like Greg might say something; full of a soft assurance that what she said was right. Like it was a rock fact. When Sara spoke like that, Wirt could shrug off his insecurities and take the complement. 

Wirt knew he was weird. He thought Sara knew too. But then, Sara was also weird. She was amazing. Wirt was so glad she was with him. Sara made things perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something that felt like a warm cup of tea, so here it is. I'll save the bitter chocolate for another time. 
> 
> This is the first piece of fanfic I've written - well, finished. Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
